


Rent Boy Russ

by purplekitte



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16996263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplekitte/pseuds/purplekitte
Summary: Werewolf in the big city, gotta make ends meet





	Rent Boy Russ

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nighthaunting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nighthaunting/gifts).



Horus is easy. Delicate, but easy to figure out. He wants Russ to be strong, manly, aggressive; to fight, and to still lose. He knows Russ is faking, but that’s its own kind of triumph and good enough for Horus, for someone to submit because it’s Horus’ pleasure for him to do so.

Dorn’s a type Russ knows well. The whole repressed Catholic thing, the intense self-hatred for the things he wants and the rare occasions it gets too much and he gives into them, the unhappy marriage Russ knows nothing about but assumes exists. Dorn needs a man to tie him down and slap him around and fuck him and tell him he’s as dirty as he thinks he is, and Russ can’t fix anyone, he can only decide to give them what they want. He robs Dorn of all the cash he has in his wallet, but he would have tossed whatever Russ asked for at him anyway as long as he could do it without looking directly at him or the money.

Sanguinius wants to let go. The girls on the street like him and call to him that they’ll do him for free, but he doesn’t want to hurt them, even by accident. Maybe he doesn’t want to think about what most of them’ve endured before to get this far, but he couldn’t let himself be selfish if he was with a woman. Russ he can believe in his heart can take it and had said it was okay and meant it, while he can still think of anything but the taste of his blood.

Curze sleeps over sometimes, breaking into Russ’ apartment when he isn’t there to open the door. Russ bleaches his shower afterwards just in case he ever gets a forensics team over, considering what Curze is probably washing off, and tells him to not feed the dogs anything weird. They lay on the same bed, and Russ has learned a dozen ways to warm him up with as little touching as possible and toss blankets on him without making him feel trapped. He has a million triggers and hang-ups, the tapestry of abuse and hunger and seizures and drugs and gangs, and couldn’t have stood to turn tricks anymore if he’d tried. Once in a blue moon he’ll let Russ blow him, and looks so damn surprised his body can feel good. Curze will trash the place anytime Russ isn’t there, and let himself out.

Lorgar has an imagination, Russ has to give him that. In his line of work, he’s seen weirder, so he’ll play priest and altar boy, daemonic seducer, pagan fertility ritual, whatever he wanted. It’s kind of fun, compared to pretending to be the respectable lawyer some professional woman is dating at her brother’s wedding or anonymous quickies in an alley or motel room. You have to give him points for enthusiasm, and making very clear and loud how much he likes what he gets.

Perturabo likes to keep it business-like. It is a business transaction for someone too busy to date (and who would want him anyway except for his money). He tells Russ exactly what he wants beforehand, like Russ is something mechanical to be programmed. Despite himself, he absolutely melts when Russ touches him. It’s hard not to like him, or at least pity him, when he whimpers with relief at any attention given to him and his body begs for things he’s too afraid to ask for and never really believes he’d get. Russ isn’t the guy to sweep him off his feet, but he wants him to feel wanted.

Khan hangs out around some of the bars he does, and takes him to others that he thinks of as fun, not work. They laugh together at the looks guys who think ‘gay’ is an insult get when they see him with someone like Russ instead of some effeminate drag queen. Russ likes riding behind him on his motorcycle, feeling the wind in his hair and smelling Jaghatai’s leather jacket and the studs in it pressing into his chest and nuzzling the tattoos curling up his neck. They make out a lot and fuck sometimes and made sure it isn’t a transaction, but he’s too much a free spirit to be quite Russ’ boyfriend. They’re friends who are guys, and that’s alright.

Guilliman has a firm theoretical about sex, but he needs practical experience and this is obviously the most efficient way to go about it. Russ thinks he really, really could have picked up someone for free, but he isn’t going to argue. Guilliman hasn’t gotten the memo about dehumanising and using prostitutes, but if someone wants to pay him to get distracted talking about the politics of sex work despite not being an actual anthropologist, he’ll take the money, and teach him some bedroom tricks and give him his honest opinion about different brands of condoms.

Mortarion is a sort Russ sees plenty often too: not conventionally attractive or disfigured in some way, some kind of sexual dysfunction, unable to get a date or to believing he can’t. The acid burns over eighty percent of his skin are something, though, and Russ has to experiment to figure out exactly what he can even feel, but he is a professional. He smells interesting, the lingering scent of latex on his hands and chemicals from the work he still does. He’s pretty sure Mortarion is mostly straight, but too embarrassed to be with a female prostitute because he can’t get enough of an erection after all the tissue damage to penetrate anyone. He can get off from Russ fingering him, though, so that will do.

Ferrus is in a relationship, but work often takes him apart from his beloved and he has needs, it’s understood. He’s simple, efficient, austere, crude past the point of rudeness, dismissive of anything he sees as weak, quick to volcanic rage. Russ doesn’t go around romanticising his clients, especially johns like that, who he doesn’t like and can’t trust, but he thinks there is more to him than that, sharp wit and deep, affectionate loyalty, but only for someone else. Not Russ’ problem.

Angron is always looking to toss Russ out of any bar he’s a bouncer at. He doesn’t moralise against sex, but he sure hates Russ for profiting and normalising selling it. As far as he’s concerned, Russ being an escort or part-time call boy because it pay well, he can keep his own hours, and he’s good at it and a guy has student loans to pay makes prostitution look good, something to take the eyes away from the human trafficking and coercion the international sex industry is built on. Russ likes baiting him too much, likes flirting with him, likes plying his trade clear as day in front of him anyway, but he doesn’t touch, because he knows you didn’t get that much anger or that many scars over nothing.

Vulkan and Russ run into each other a lot. Vulkan isn’t going out looking for sex, let alone sex with a prostitute, as he’s doing charity work when they met as often as he is looking for a drink somewhere with a least three big-screen football games on. So they hang out, talk, especially when Russ is having a slow night and an empty inbox. Took him awhile to even notice Russ was selling sex rather than looking for hookups, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it when he did; Russ wasn’t the first person he’d met who’d sold sex. They dated; it didn’t quite work out romantically, but they stay friends. With benefits, but only when Russ made the offer, because Vulkan respects his boundaries and his divide between personal and professional too much. A guy needs all the friends he can get, and a good cuddle with one is a good thing to have.

Corax is bad news. Russ trusts his instincts and they tell him that. Not the kind of guy who likes killing prostitutes or even a bad person necessarily, but someone who believes in political theories enough to decide it’s worth getting into trouble for them. He’s done plenty of people who’ve done jail time before and other people who were into that punk Goth or emo stuff and a little ‘Fuck the government’ graffiti is just fun and games, but this isn’t a man he can trust to not make a bomb in his bathtub and go use it in some bought of depression. He does not want to be hanging around that apartment when the police show up, and blocks his number.

Lion is there because of aching lust. Another closet case, he doen’t even want to be straight, in Russ’ opinion, as ace (or possibly a brain in a jar), and to not have his body have these annoying yearnings without his permission. Still he burns with it, and the dark circles under his eyes attest to how long he tormented himself over it before going to Russ. He’s clumsy in that overenthusiastic way, bites too hard, tells Russ to slow down whenever he gets overwhelmed by the sensation of it and Russ doesn’t because he knows perfectly well he’ll never be able to control it and can only be satisfied by burning with it. He feels Lion shudder and arch and lose himself, and grins.

Fulgrim is a high-strung artistic type. He’s demanding, knowing exactly what he wants and when. Half the time when Fulgrim calls him and says he needs him right now, what he wants was a last minute model, and Russ amuses himself with the thought of his ass being immortalised in art, while being rather bored of trying to stay still while Fulgrim fusses over getting his sketches perfect. He walks the line between the long, drawn-out, loud, sensual encounters on silk sheets that Fulgrim orchestrates like a conductor, and the times Fulgrim really wants to be tossed down, messed up, and totally overwhelmed by speed and animal passion. Being Fulgrim’s latest obsession is something best to hold himself emotionally aloof from the annoyances and benefits of, but at least it pays well.

Alpharius never tells him the same story twice, and even among the many liars Russ knows (I’m straight, I’m single, it doesn’t really count), he is a particularly compulsive one. Sometimes Russ wonders if he is even the same person every time, like old horror stories of different alien personalities switching around in one body, but he keeps that observation to himself since he figures he probably has some actual mental disorder he isn’t qualified to diagnose. Russ takes extra precautions, because while he doesn’t _want_ Konrad busting in to rescue him, he doesn’t trust a snake. In bed, Alpharius is cruel and seems to like being able to torment a guy like Russ, maybe as a ‘getting back at the jocks from high school’ thing. Russ counts the money, and counts it again just in case.

Magnus is the single most aggravating person Russ knows. He doesn’t want to hear about how good quinoa is for clearing energy blockages in the solar plexus chakra. No, that is totally different than that time with the fish and the snow, that worked. It also didn’t involve going on about vegetarianism. So there. Clients are clients, but something about Magnus gets under Russ’ skin and makes him lose his professional play-boy facade in favour of arguing about everything up to the quality of the weather. Magnus doesn’t want Russ to pretend to get along with him either; he’s so convinced of his own rightness he is convinced he can win him over if they just argue about the error of each others’ ways enough, so he keeps the money flowing. At least the frustrated, out-of-control sex is really good.

**Author's Note:**

> I do pride myself on people being broadly in-character, if in a very ooc way. I assume russ is always a confident manipulative sexy bisexual werewolf, right?


End file.
